


Retribution

by Morgan (morgan32)



Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Genre: M/M, PWP, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-08
Updated: 2009-03-08
Packaged: 2017-10-02 06:18:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgan32/pseuds/Morgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iolaus misbehaves. Hercules punishes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Retribution

Iolaus struggled against the hands that held him down. He knew it was pointless: he would never be a match for Hercules' strength. "Let me go!" he demanded. He almost wrenched his shoulder out of its socket in his efforts to escape. The rough timbers of the floor were leaving hundreds of tiny splinters in his flesh.

"Stop that!" Hercules snapped. The demigod's grip on Iolaus' wrists increased fractionally. "If you hurt yourself, it won't be my fault," he warned.

"So let me _go_!" the hunter insisted.

Without warning, Hercules' mouth came down on his. He forced the struggling mortal's lips apart, plundering his mouth with hard thrusts of his tongue. Iolaus put up a token fight against the assault, but it was only for show. Only for stubbornness. Before long he welcomed the invasion, sucking hungrily on the demigod's tongue, all pretence at resistance gone. He arched against Hercules' legs, displaying his now-hard cock to his lover.

And Hercules pulled away from him, leaving the hunter gasping. The only contact between them was Hercules' big hand trapping Iolaus' wrists. Iolaus' skin tingled with the ghostly aftermath of Hercules' touch. The cool breeze flowing through his open codpiece was torture. He writhed beneath his lover's firm hold, desperately seeking more.

"Better," Hercules said with satisfaction. He flipped the leather codpiece over so it covered Iolaus once more, then rested his free hand on the leather, feeling the size and shape of the aching organ beneath.

Iolaus raised his body toward that tantalisingly light touch. It was maddening: the warmth of his lover's hand, the promise inherent in that caress…he needed more.

And the hand was withdrawn. Hercules shook his head sadly. "Oh, no, Iolaus," he said, as if scolding a small child. Then he smiled, the glint in his blue eyes making his expression almost threatening. "Did you really think I'd forget, Iolaus?" he asked conversationally. "I _owe_ you, remember? For that stunt you pulled in the forge yesterday. You are going to pay and pay and pay."

His lover's quiet voice sent shivers of desire through Iolaus' helpless body. If this was Herc's idea of retribution he was all for it. It was so unlike Hercules to take charge this completely: he was always afraid of hurting Iolaus with his strength. Iolaus had known, the day before, that Hercules would find some way to make him pay for the prank. Truth be told, that was why he had done it. Well, that and because it had been fun and because he hadn't exactly been thinking with his brain that day.

Whatever Hercules was going to do to him now, Iolaus intended to enjoy it. Either way, it would be worth it.

***

The whole thing had started in the forge at Alcmene's house. No…it had really started much earlier in the day, when they had gone down to the river for water. Iolaus had been in an exuberant mood and Hercules, happier and more relaxed than he had seemed for weeks, had willingly been drawn into his lover's horseplay. Right up to the point where they had gotten a little too close to the river and Hercules slipped on a loose rock. Iolaus had teased the demigod unmercifully from the safety of dry land: it was unlike Hercules to be so clumsy. Hercules had waded out of the water, his chamois shirt clinging to his skin, water running off him in silver rivulets, defining every curve of his muscles. He stood over Iolaus, who by then had been almost helpless with laughter. Moving too quickly for the hunter to evade, he had scooped the other man into his arms and waded back out, holding Iolaus over the water. It had "cost" Iolaus several kisses and one very specific promise to get him out of that one without a dunking. Not that he would have really objected if Hercules _had_ thrown him in.

When they reached the house (having taken longer than was strictly necessary for their errand), Jason and Alcmene had already left. They'd planned to meet friends at the market: Hercules and Iolaus would have the place to themselves most of the day. They intended to spend the morning, at least, in the forge.

But the first thing Hercules wanted to do was get out of his wet clothing. This was where they ran into a problem: there didn't seem to be a change of clothes available. In the end, Hercules tied an old blanket around his hips as a loincloth. It would be enough, he decided, as the forge would be hot and the less he was wearing the more comfortable he would be.

Iolaus, enjoying the sight of his lover's near-naked body, had approved.

It was almost time to break for lunch when they were interrupted. The sound of horsemen approaching had Hercules moving warily toward the door. The forge door was a stable-style affair, made up of two sections that could be opened or closed independently. They had been working with the top section open; the base was closed and braced. Hercules leaned over the lower half of the door, craning to see who was approaching.

"It's Iphicles," he told Iolaus over his shoulder. Then he shouted to attract his brother's attention.

They had heard more than one horse: Iphicles obviously wasn't alone. Iolaus hefted the harness they'd been working on and plunged it into the water to cool it. A cloud of steam hissed up, surrounding him. He wiped his face with one hand, slicking back his hair. He was soaked with sweat. They would both need a bath at the end of the day.

Through the steam, his eyes were drawn to his lover's body, silhouetted against the open half-door. Gorgeous. Completely irresistible. What was it, Iolaus wondered, about blacksmithing that always turned him on? The heat? The physical labour? The steady rhythm of hammer and anvil? Probably just the company, he decided. Hercules…

The loincloth the demigod wore had slipped, just a little. As Iolaus watched, Hercules absently adjusted the cloth, unintentionally giving Iolaus a glimpse of the firm globes of his ass. The hunter sighed as he felt his body react to the sight. He _liked_ Iphicles…but he _really_ hoped he wasn't planning to stick around.

Meanwhile Hercules, oblivious to his lover's frustration, was leaning on the lower door happily talking with his brother.

It was dark in the forge, and bright sunlight outside. Possibly Iphicles had heard Iolaus moving about, but it was unlikely he had seen him through the open hatch. The sunlight was too dazzling. He decided not to say hello: he didn't want to encourage him to stay. Iolaus plunked down on the floor beside Hercules, leaning back against the door. He glanced up at his lover. He had an interesting angle from down here… Unable to resist the temptation to touch, Iolaus reached out and ran his hand lightly up Hercules' leg, from his calf to just above the knee, then a little higher, stroking the soft skin of his inner thigh. Hercules glanced down; Iolaus looked up and met his warning gaze with an impudent grin. Hercules ignored him and went on talking with Iphicles.

But Iolaus had noticed with delight that Hercules' body wasn't ignoring him.

Iolaus knew he should stop right there. He knew that if he didn't, Hercules would have his revenge. But he also knew he often enjoyed his lover's idea of retribution. And he loved looking at Hercules: the very noticeable swell of Hercules' cock shouldn't be hidden by that damned loincloth. And no one outside the forge knew Iolaus was there.

He was still touching Hercules' thigh. He squeezed the muscle gently, then stroked downward again, withdrawing his hand briefly. He shifted onto his knees and reached up again, quickly pulling the loincloth away from Hercules' body. Hercules made a grab for it but he was too late. And he couldn't do much about it, because Iphicles was right there. For a moment, Iolaus did nothing but look. His lover's skin was smooth, glowing in the light of the forge with a light sheen of sweat. The down of curled hair that covered his chest tapered to a line below his navel, drawing Iolaus' eyes inevitably to the thicker mat of hair between the demigod's legs. His penis rested below, partially erect.

Iolaus breathed deeply of his lover's scent: the sharp tang of sweat overlaid with male musk and the faintest, intoxicating scent of his arousal. He let his breath out, his mouth close to Hercules' skin. He knew Hercules would feel it cool on his flesh in contrast to the forge's heat. He watched Hercules' cock rise further, as if to meet his touch.

Iolaus clearly heard Iphicles ask, "Where's Iolaus? He's never away from your side these days."

Hercules answered, "He's hiding around the place somewhere. Getting himself into trouble, no doubt."

Iolaus struggled to stifle the giggles that rose up inside when he heard that. He knew it had been intended for him to hear. But the hunter never _had_ learned to listen to warnings. And the sight of Hercules' hard cock, so near his face, was too delicious to refuse. A tiny bead of moisture waited at the tip.

It was fairly easy for the agile hunter to manoeuvre himself into position. Hercules, still talking with his brother and determinedly ignoring Iolaus, might not have realised what he was doing. Until, that is, Iolaus arched a little closer and took his lover's swelling cock into his mouth.

Iolaus heard Hercules stumble over whatever he had been saying.

Iolaus sucked more than half of Hercules' length into the moist heat of his mouth. His tongue passed over the head with a deliberately teasing touch. He tasted the fluid gathered there. With both hands, he gripped Hercules by his hips, drawing him closer. He felt Hercules' weight shift as he leaned on the door ledge for support.

The hunter slipped one of his hands between his lover's thighs, stroking the smooth skin. Higher, sliding his fingers into the crease where thigh met scrotum, all the while teasing his lover's cock with his tongue. He weighed and caressed the demigod's balls, rediscovering the exact shape and texture with his fingertips.

He almost moaned aloud when he felt Hercules' fingers in his hair. Incredible how much that touch alone could stimulate him… The demigod's hand rested on the top of his head and the pleasure seemed to come from each hand in waves, down Iolaus' body converging on his aching cock.

Iolaus began to suck his lover in earnest, the head of that delicious organ in his mouth while his hand pumped the shaft firmly. Hercules' hand in his hair tightened painfully. But, lost in the delirious pleasure of Hercules' taste, the fullness of Hercules inside him, the momentary pain only increased Iolaus' lust. He shifted position slightly, arching his neck and drew Hercules' entire engorged length into his throat.

Hercules' hand pulled him closer. Iolaus was gripping his lover's bare ass, locking their bodies together. He swallowed repeatedly as Hercules thrust brutally into his throat, once. Then the hot stream of Hercules' seed filled him. There was too much: Iolaus couldn't swallow it all. A trickle of pearl-white fluid ran from the corner of his lips.

Iolaus heard Iphicles' voice: "Is everything alright, Hercules?"

Hercules, one hand still firmly holding Iolaus in place, answered, "I'm fine."

"You seem a bit…distracted."

"No. Everything's fine. I'll tell mother you stopped by."

Moments later, Iolaus heard Iphicles say goodbye and ride away.

***

Now he was lying on his back, trapped by his lover's strength, uncomfortable in several different ways, wondering with a mixture of delicious fear and lust what was about to happen. He wasn't used to Hercules in this mood. He enjoyed teasing Hercules, pushing at the boundaries the demigod built up. And for the most part, Hercules loved it, too. He didn't only play along, he was a willing and enthusiastic lover any way Iolaus wanted.

But Iolaus knew without being told that this time he had crossed the line.

Hercules had said nothing at all, and the thousand-and-one questions filling Iolaus' mind were as tormenting as his unsatisfied erection. Finally he decided to risk speaking. "Herc, what's going on? What are we doing up here? I mean…"

"Shut up."

"Okay. You're a bit annoyed with me, I get the point. But…"

"I said, shut up."

"Fine, I'll be quiet. But could you let me up, Herc, please. These logs are really uncomfortable."

Hercules smiled thinly. "Uncomfortable, is it? Good. Now, shut up. Don't make me gag you."

Iolaus shut up, choosing not to struggle for now. Not until he knew what Hercules wanted from him. His cock, iron-hard a moment before, began to soften. Hercules was angry…cold. In this mood, he reminded Iolaus of the Sovereign, and _that_ thought made him feel real fear for the first time.

It was the location that worried him most. The previous afternoon, having left Alcmene's place shortly after lunch, they had spent several hours helping the townspeople fill their newly-built barn with their stores ready for the winter. The new barn was an open structure, with a roof but no walls except at one end, where the stone built wall supported a log platform that jutted out roughly four feet from the wall over the open ground below. An arm extending from the ridgepole above the platform formed part of a pulley system designed to lift heavy sacks from the ground to this upper level. The pulleys were in place, but the previous day the rope had frayed, making the system useless. The platform itself was a simple construction of roughly hewn logs held together with rope and nails, supported by the wall and a single pillar.

Hercules and Iolaus had spent the night in the barn, sleeping on a pile of hay in the upper level. They had made love that night with a slow, melting intensity and Iolaus had believed his prank was forgiven. Until, just as dawn was breaking, Hercules had dragged Iolaus out here, to the open space just inside the platform. Now the hunter, already sure his gauntlets would be covering bruises for a while, was wondering what in Tartarus Hercules had in mind.

"I'm not interested in an apology from you, Iolaus," Hercules told him bluntly. He was still holding the hunter down, though Iolaus had quit struggling. "_Sorry_ doesn't mean a lot unless you mean it. I don't think you'd mean it, because you don't understand _why_ I'm angry. If you did, it wouldn't have happened." He was calmly unbuckling Iolaus' belts with his free hand, placing each one carefully to one side. He slid his hand inside Iolaus' codpiece, lightly touching his cock. Iolaus strained toward his lover's touch. Hercules shook his head. "No, Iolaus. That's not how this is going to be." His hand slid over the leather of Iolaus' trousers, cupping his ass. "I thought about giving you the spanking you deserve. But I have a feeling that's exactly what you were angling for."

The tell-tale gleam in the hunter's blue eyes confirmed Hercules' guess.

"So instead…" Hercules released his lover's hands suddenly, "we're going to stay here until you understand. If it takes an hour, a day or a month, you won't leave here until I _know_ you get it." He narrowed his eyes as Iolaus sat up, rubbing at his wrists. "I can make you do anything I want. You _do_ know that, don't you?"

Iolaus nodded dumbly. It was the simple truth. Like the Sovereign, Hercules could take anything he wanted from Iolaus: the hunter was helpless against his Olympian strength. The thought would have been terrifying if he hadn't known that Hercules loved him and that Hercules' heart wouldn't allow him to truly hurt his lover no matter how angry he became.

"Good," Hercules said. His voice was cold. "In that case I hope you'll be sensible enough to obey me. Will you?"

Iolaus nodded again.

"Then get naked."

Iolaus obeyed. He stripped off his patched, purple vest and let it fall. He bent to remove his boots, then got to his feet a to take off his trousers, turning away from Hercules as he stood. He felt the rough texture of the timbers beneath his bare feet: a reminder that this was unlikely to be comfortable for him. But he couldn't deny that he was excited, too. The strength Hercules was threatening him with was one of this things that most attracted him to the demigod. He loved the gentle and caring side that was Hercules' normal way, but he thrilled to the occasions when Hercules handled him firmly. Was that perverse? Iolaus wasn't naturally a submissive man…maybe it was just that he was used to Hercules taking charge in other areas of life. He dropped his trousers to the ground and turned back to Hercules, naked.

Hercules drank in the sight for a moment. He would never tire of just looking at Iolaus: his body, compact and perfect, his skin almost glowing golden in the dawn light. Their eyes met, Iolaus' pale blue eyes showing just a little fear. Seeing that, Hercules felt an urge to take his hunter into his arms, kiss him, love him, replace that fear in his eyes with passion and make love to him slowly, savouring every moment and lavishing loving attention on every gorgeous inch of his body…

That's what he _wanted_ to do. It was not, however, what he was _going_ to do.

"Out there," he ordered curtly, with a nod toward the platform.

Iolaus looked where Hercules indicated, then glanced back at his lover, uncertainly. "But, Herc, it's…I mean…"

"A bit public for you?" Hercules guessed. "Being in public didn't bother you yesterday, did it? Get out there."

Iolaus hesitated, but did as he was told. Hercules clearly wasn't in the mood for arguments. He walked out onto the platform, feeling the cool breeze on his body. Below, he could clearly see the people's houses. The small town would be waking soon enough. He saw the town well: within an hour, there would be twenty or more women queuing up there to draw water. They would only have to look up to get a perfect view of him. Iolaus felt horribly exposed and vulnerable in his nakedness.

"On your knees."

Iolaus knelt with some relief. The platform was high enough, and wide enough that as long as he wasn't standing he wouldn't be too visible from the ground. His relief didn't last long, however. The logs beneath his knees were hard and rubbed harshly against his skin. This could get painful before too long. Iolaus could feel Hercules' eyes on him and he strained to hear the demigod's movements.

"Not like that," Hercules said. Then the demigod's hands were on Iolaus' body, moving him firmly but gently into the position he wanted. The hunter's knees were spread wide apart, his feet even wider. Had he been less agile, Iolaus would have had trouble keeping his balance.

"Much better." Hercules gazed down at his handiwork. Gods, he was beautiful. He couldn't help himself, he had to touch. He reached out to brush Iolaus' throat with his fingertips and continued the caress downwards. over his chest to circle a nipple. He watched his lover's cock respond to his touch with some satisfaction. Longing to touch him there, too, Hercules drew away abruptly. _Later_, he promised himself. "Stay there," he instructed.

Iolaus heard the changed timbre of Hercules' voice and allowed himself a brief, secret smile. Hercules' needs and responses were as familiar to him as his own. This was going to have a happy ending, he was sure. Then everything went dark as Hercules tied a strip of cloth around his eyes.

"Herc, what…?"

Hercules' finger across his lips silenced him. Iolaus knew better than to move when Hercules stepped away from him again. But, gods, he wanted to get up! Hercules had deprived him of sight, heightening all his other senses. He was acutely aware of the air around him, the breeze tormenting him with its light caress, carrying the scents of hay and morning dew. The timber beneath him digging into his skin. The sounds of distant birdsong and his lover's breath. And, most of all, this feeling of helplessness, of being utterly subject to Hercules' will.

What was Hercules doing? Iolaus knew he was still there: he could hear him moving. But what was going on?

Hercules' fingers in his hair, stroking gently. The heat of the demigod's body, close to his own, yet not touching. He must be kneeling behind Iolaus, between his wide-spread legs. _Damn_ this blindfold! He wanted to see him. Hands stroking slowly down his sides. Iolaus caught his breath, unable to stop himself visualising the two of them. Hands gripped his buttocks, parting them slightly. Iolaus' cock throbbed insistently. Oh, yes… Hercules would take him now. He heard himself moan and, too late, tried to stifle the sound. Warm hands moved around his waist and across his taut stomach. One of them stayed there, the other slid lower, with tormenting slowness. Iolaus relaxed, leaning back against his lover's chest, breathing in the scent of him, anticipating Hercules' hand on his cock.

It never happened.

Hercules' hand stopped just above the nest of hair that hugged Iolaus' cock at the root. His voice, deadly quiet, came from just beside Hercules' ear. "Last chance, Iolaus. Do you understand?"

"Hercules…" Iolaus begged.

"Do. You. Understand?"

_No…_ "I know I did wrong." To his own ears, Iolaus' voice sounded weak, pathetic. "I know I went too far. Hercules, **_please_**!"

The warmth of Hercules' touch disappeared.

"Herc!" Iolaus had little choice but to wait, frustrated. The next touch was harsh: an abrasive rope being tied around his ankle. "Y—you don't need to do that," Iolaus said.

"We'll see." Hercules continued what he was doing. Set into the platform were several iron rings, part of the pulley system. Hercules tied each of Iolaus' ankles to a ring, leaving a length of rope running from each one. With this rope, he secured the hunter's wrists. Each wrist tied to the same ring as an ankle, the rope long enough to allow some freedom of movement, the knots tight enough to hold him, but with no danger of doing him harm if he didn't struggle. When Hercules tried to tie his hands, Iolaus put up some resistance; a sharp slap on his buttocks ended his struggles and he hadn't made any further sound. Hercules finished the job and stepped away again.

Automatically, Iolaus tested the strength of his bonds. Hercules let him do it, certain that the rope would hold.

"Hercules?" Iolaus tried, a tremor in his voice, now.

Hercules sighed. Cruelty didn't come naturally to him, but for Iolaus' sake more than for his own, he had to continue this. "Do you know," he asked Iolaus, "how close I came to killing you yesterday?"

Iolaus remembered.

_As Iphicles rode away from the house, Hercules had stepped away from the door, bent down and dragged Iolaus to his feet, "What the hell was **that**?!"_

_Iolaus grinned at him, pleased with himself. "I thought you could use…a pick-me-up."_

_Hercules shoved him against the wall, not gently, and trapped him there with his own body. One of his hands groped between Iolaus' leather-clad thighs. Iolaus gasped as Hercules' ungentle hand discovered his hard cock. "Oh, gods, Herc, yes. Fuck me." He pushed against Hercules._

_Without warning, Hercules let him go. Iolaus looked up into his lover's eyes, for the first time seeing real anger there._

_"I don't think so, Iolaus. You'll have to take care of that without me." And he had marched out of the forge, wrapping the loincloth back around his waist as he went._

Tentatively, Iolaus answered, "I know you were…angry, Herc." Unfortunately, it was about then that the hunter's rebellious side took over and he burst out, "But you _enjoyed_ it, Herc! You can't tell me you didn't!"

"You really don't get it, do you?" Hercules decided. He stood, walking around the captive hunter. "How does this make you feel, Iolaus? Being out here, knowing that anyone who looks up will see you. How do you feel?"

"Not great," Iolaus admitted. _The blindfold helps, though,_ he realised. _I can pretend we're alone._ "I feel…vulnerable. And a little scared."

Hercules grinned suddenly. "Well, you _look_ gorgeous." His hands, now slick with oil, rested lightly on Iolaus' shoulders for a moment, then slid down the outsides of his arms. Iolaus sighed and leaned into his touch as far as the restraints would allow. Hercules' hands left him briefly and he felt a warm trickle of oil over the flesh of his chest, followed by those hands again, spreading the oil over his skin. Hercules' fingers passed over his nipples and Iolaus groaned.

_He's gonna frustrate me to death!_ His cock, so very hard, was clamouring for attention. The oil spread over his flesh in ticklish rivulets, converging at the base of his cock, making him all the more aware of his aching, neglected arousal. Hercules was behind him again, stroking down his back. Unexpectedly, Iolaus felt his oiled fingers probe between his buttocks. He pushed back against that touch as Hercules stretched him open. But Hercules' fingers entered him only a little way, then withdrew.

Iolaus moaned. "Herc, please."

"We're not here for _your_ pleasure, Iolaus." He pushed two fingers inside him again. There was a little pain, but Iolaus was ready for it, wanted it. Hercules worked on him carefully, rubbing oil into his sensitive hole, preparing him. Iolaus gritted his teeth, determined not to make a sound, of pleasure or of pain, because he so desperately needed Hercules to continue. Hercules thrust three fingers into him, hard, and for Iolaus the battle was lost. He cried out in pleasure, jerking against the ropes that held him. But still, the special stimulation he craved was denied him. Hercules withdrew his fingers and moved back.

Iolaus bit back his protests, aware that another word would only make matters worse. Oh, but this was torture! His anus, carefully prepared by his lover, felt unbearably empty. He wanted to beg Hercules to fill him. His entire body tingled, desperate for a touch. Any touch.

He blinked as Hercules whipped the blindfold away from his eyes. He closed his eyes against the blinding sunlight. It seemed that only moments before it had been dawn. Yet now the sun was much higher in the sky. Below them, the town was awake. Iolaus looked down warily, seeing the women at the well, children playing in the open square below them.

What was Hercules _doing_? Punishing Iolaus for doing something to him in public, by doing this somewhere even more public! It made no sense.

He was allowed no more time to wonder. Hercules was standing so close to him. Iolaus, having been given back his sight, had only a moment to register the full glory of the demigod's nakedness. Hercules' fingers tangled in his wild curls, a tangible reminder of the act that had led to all of this. His cock, big and hard, approached Iolaus' face. Iolaus wet his lips, ready to take him in, but Hercules avoided his mouth, rubbing his cock against his hunter's unshaven cheek. He left a streak of moisture on the skin he touched, which Iolaus felt as a chill in the morning breeze.

Hercules held his cock, stroking himself slowly, inches from Iolaus' eyes. "You want this? You want me?" He squeezed the purplish head of his cock between his thumb and forefinger, drawing another bead of clear liquid from the tiny slit.

Iolaus strained toward him, longing to touch, held back by the harsh ropes. "Oh gods," he groaned. "Yes, I want you! Need…"

Hercules gathered the bead of moisture onto his finger, then, very, very gently, he brushed that finger across Iolaus' waiting lips. Iolaus' tongue snaked out to taste.

Hercules continued to walk around his bound lover until he stood behind him again.

Iolaus found he was shaking. Was it possible to die from this? If it was, he must be getting dangerously close to that point. His frustration built to an unbearable peak as he tasted the merest hint of his lover's essence on his own lips. Unable to stay silent any longer, he burst out, "Herc. please, I'm sorry, please you're _killing_ me…gods, Hercules, take me, **_please_**!!"

"That's what you want?" Hercules' even voice, from behind him.

""You _know_ it is," Iolaus moaned.

"Show me. Show me how much you want it."

"Gods…" Iolaus moaned, confused. What more did Hercules expect from him? Then Hercules' hands on his shoulders guided him to lean back. Iolaus obeyed, nervously. Further and further back; he had to use his hands to steady him behind, or he might have fallen. His body was stretched into a bow-shape, his swollen cock displayed prominently between his spread thighs. Hercules hovered over him and Iolaus could smell his arousal. Hercules reached beneath Iolaus' chin and tilted his head back, filling Iolaus' sight with his gorgeous cock.

"Take it in, Iolaus."

Almost with gratitude, Iolaus opened his mouth to engulf his lover's cock. The position he was in made it almost impossible for him to move. All the control was Hercules': Iolaus tasted him, massaged the sensitive skin of his cock with his tongue, he could suck, but he couldn't touch, couldn't take in any more than Hercules allowed. And it was impossible, in this position, for him to stop. He was entirely at his lover's mercy.

To make his torment complete, his mouth on Hercules' erection was the only physical contact between them.

Another inch of Hercules slid between his lips. Iolaus groaned around the flesh that filled him, trying desperately to ignore his own aching body.

He felt Hercules' hands on his nipples. Involuntarily, he arched his body fractionally further, into that touch. Hercules pinched and twisted the dark nubs, his attentions becoming increasingly rough until Iolaus' nipples stood out on his chest, dark, erect, throbbing painfully. And still, somehow, Iolaus continued to tease Hercules' cock. It was much harder for him to stay focussed, though. The sensations were rapidly becoming too much. Hercules thrusting shallowly into his mouth…the delicious agony of his own exposed cock, needing only a touch…and the horrible knowledge, impossible to ignore, that anyone who glanced up from below would see them, see _him_ in this ridiculous and humiliating position.

Then something changed.

Suddenly, Iolaus didn't care who might see them, or what he must look like. Why was he fighting this? This was Hercules. His lover. If this was what Hercules wanted… All the hunter's instinctive rebellion vanished. The shield of pride he had not even realised he had raised melted away, leaving in its place only the desire to serve, and to love. Iolaus' needs were irrelevant. Acutely aware of his mouth around Hercules' shaft, he began to work with his tongue, massaging the sensitive skin, letting Hercules' movements guide him to what would give the greatest pleasure. Sweet surrender, so alien to the stubborn hunter, suffused his whole being. All that mattered was Hercules.

The demigod's cock was withdrawn from him. Hercules snapped a single word: "Down."

Iolaus understood and bent forward as far as the restraints allowed, presenting his bare ass to his lover. One swift, brutal thrust and Hercules was inside him. The unexpected assault forced a cry from Iolaus' lips. Hercules pushed his entire length into the hunter's anus, withdrew almost completely, then drove into him again. His hands gripped the hunter's hips as he plundered his tight ass, grunting with the effort of each thrust.

For Iolaus, denied for so long, it was incredible. He shouted incoherently with the pleasure of it, pushing back into the demigod's thrusts. His cock jumped with each invasion, each cry and he ached for the moment when Hercules would claim that part of him, too, and milk him to a shattering orgasm.

Hercules gave a triumphant yell, his grip on Iolaus' hips tightened convulsively and his orgasm erupted, filling the hunter with the hot stream of his essence.

He hadn't allowed Iolaus to come.

Hercules withdrew himself from the hunter's body and stood. Iolaus felt the trickle of Hercules' seed as it leaked from his filled hole. Tears stung the hunter's eyes. Shaking, he tried to sit up.

"Not bad," Hercules said indifferently. "I think I like you this way."

"Hercules, _please_!" The tears flowed down Iolaus' cheeks. He couldn't have stopped them if he'd tried. It wasn't only the frustration. It was the realisation of what Hercules had done: used him. With his consent, certainly, but Iolaus was suddenly sure that if he had objected or refused it would have made no difference. He meant nothing to Hercules. He had just used him, and now would cast him aside.

Hercules sat down on the platform beside the hunter. "What is it, Iolaus?" he asked. He might have been asking about the weather. "What is it you want?"

"Make me come," Iolaus begged. "Please, just make me come."

"Oh, is _that_ all?" Hercules exclaimed in mock-surprise. "Why didn't you say so?" With one strong hand he grasped Iolaus' aching cock. Hercules stroked him firmly, but impersonally, as if it was a chore. In moments, Iolaus had the release he craved. But that's all it was: a release. Hercules gave him no joy in it.

Shattered, exhausted, overwhelmingly miserable, Iolaus sat back as far as he could, hung his head, and wept.

Strong, gentle arms encircled the weeping hunter. Hercules' voice was raw with emotion. "Oh, gods, Iolaus, I'm sorry. I didn't want to do that to you. Forgive me, love."

Love.

Only when the word was spoken did Iolaus realise how badly he needed to hear it. Still bound to the platform, he couldn't return his lover's embrace, but he leaned gratefully into the demigod's arms, his breath coming in huge sobs, unable to speak for his tears.

"Iolaus, please. I'm sorry."

"Hercules…" The hoarse whisper was all he could manage.

Hercules freed him then, undoing the knots deftly before gathering his lover into his arms again. Iolaus held him tightly and they clung to each other, unmoving, for a long time.

Finally, Iolaus drew away. He forced three words past his raw throat. "You were right."

Hercules shook his head firmly. "No. I shouldn't have done that to you."

"Maybe not," Iolaus said uncertainly. "But I needed it, Herc. I understand."

Hercules met his lover's sincere eyes hopefully. "You do?"

Iolaus nodded, then he looked down, honestly ashamed. "I pushed you too far, but that's not why you were angry with me, is it? You were angry because what I did, I did for me. Not for you, not for _us_. I didn't act with love, and that makes it…unforgivable." The last word was barely audible.

"Not unforgivable." Hercules' mouth met his in a kiss. The first kiss since this had begun. A kiss so sweet and tender, there was no need for more words.

When they parted, finally, Hercules stood and helped Iolaus to his feet. "C'mon. I know a place not far from here where we can really be alone."

Iolaus smiled, some of his all-too-familiar mischief showing. "You mean we're not?" he asked with mock-innocence.

Hercules didn't answer, just grinned and tossed Iolaus his trousers.

"Y'know…" Iolaus commented as he dressed, "there's one thing I don't understand. You were mad because I did that to you with Iphicles there. But this…" with a wave of his hand toward the exposed platform, "is even more public."

Hercules shook his head. "Actually, it's not," he said. "I — er — Aphrodite owed me a favour. We had until noon. Nobody could see or hear anything."

Iolaus stared at him. "Why, you…devious…deceitful…" he began, half angrily.

Hercules moved closer and kissed Iolaus, cutting off the rest of his words. "Decadent," he murmured, continuing the litany, "…delicious…" nuzzling into Iolaus' neck, his tongue snaking out to taste his lover's salty skin, "…delightful…" his hand slipping inside Iolaus' leather codpiece, feeling his cock beginning to rise once more, "…and desperately in love with you," he concluded, as Iolaus melted into his arms.

The hunter pressed his cheek against Hercules' bare chest and laughed. "Yeah, you're all of that," he agreed. Then he drew back, frowning, looking up at his lover. "Herc, you _did_ just say we've got 'till noon, didn't you?" he grinned, his hands unfastening his trousers once again.

They had at least an hour. They could do a lot in an hour.


End file.
